


Missing You

by her_imperius_condessy



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug use/abuse, Monkee Shenanagins, Multi, OC Character Death (off-screen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_imperius_condessy/pseuds/her_imperius_condessy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What….” Mike choked, but was able to finish the sentence. “What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to Missing You!
> 
> I wrote this years ago, but it remains to be my favorite thing that I have created. It was originally posted on a Monkees community over on LiveJournal, but I'm moving everything over here now. 
> 
> This first chapter is a little dialogue heavy, but it picks up in the next chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter One

Autumn descended upon California early and cold, making the wind chill and just a little bitter. People who would have been walking around in shorts a year before were now sporting jackets and scarves. The streets were deserted because most people were huddled in their homes for warmth.

Despite these facts, only three of the four Monkees were at home this evening. Davy Jones was out on a date, stating that no freakish cold spell would keep him away from the Vincent Van Go-Go. The other three were sitting in the living room of their Pad; Micky was on the floor in front of the T.V avidly watching ‘Star Trek’, Mike was lounging on the couch and reading ‘Car and Driver’, and Peter was leaning against the bandstand and playing around with a new tune.

Suddenly, the relative quiet was shattered by the phone clanging next to Mike. He instinctively reached over to answer it, accidentally wrapping his arm around the lamp in the process. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank goodness, someone finally picked up!”

Mike frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’ve been calling numbers for half an hour and you’re the first to pick up.” The Voice sounded pleased. Mike was still confused.

“Huh?”

The Voice giggled. “Don’t hang up, alright.”

“Uh, sure. I won’t.” Mike shook his head, cursing his eternal curiosity. The Voice sounded nice; a friendly feminine voice, a little deeper than most girls but still obviously a woman.

She laughed a little again. “You’re probably thinking I’m a crazy stalker chick, huh?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not crazy or a stalker. Just chronically bored. I needed someone to talk to and your number was the first to pick up. I didn’t even look it up in the book, just dialed random numbers….”

“You know you’re a babbler, right?”

“I think I’ve heard that before, yeah….But there’s really no one to talk to here.”

Mike looked around the room; Micky and Peter were mouthing ‘Who’s that?’. He shrugged.

“My roommates want to know who’s on the phone.”

“You have roommates? That’s cool….”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

The Voice laughed. “Kendra. Kendra Thomas.”

“It’s Kendra Thomas…..They say they don’t know a Kendra Thomas.”

Kendra laughed. “I imagine they don’t. And I don’t know you either.”

“Mike Nesmith.”

“’Mike’ or ‘Michael’?”

“I don’t really care…..”

“Or even ‘Mick’….”

“One of my roommates is Mick.”

“Oh…So that’s one I know, what about the others?”

Mike chuckled. “Hey, why do you get to ask all the questions? I’m guessing you live alone?”

“Yeah. All alone. I’d like to have someone around, but….Well, I guess I just have bad luck with roommates.”

“I dig. I used to live with a man named Chuck who thought he was an Elf.”

“An elf? Like Lord of the Rings?”

“Yeah, just like that. And how come are you asking questions again?”

“We’ll do it in turns…me then you, alright?”

“Yeah, sure. You go first.”

“Uhm….Okay, who else lives with you?”

“Davy and Peter. Don’t you have any family you could stay with?”

“No. My family is on the East Coast. What exactly is it that leads to four men living together? Kinky…..”

“Ew! No, we’re a band, none of that….ew!” Mike heard Kendra laugh over the line and he grinned. He was liking her laugh.

“So, if your family lives on the East Coast, why do you live here?”

“I said they were on the East Coast…..Nothing about living.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Now, where do you come from? I’m guessing some place in the South.”

“Texas. You got a boyfriend?”

“Now really, Michael, do you think that I would be spending my evening talking to strange men over the phone if I had a boyfriend?”

“I, uh, guess not.”

“Now, what kind of band are you guys in?”

“We’re The Monkees. I don’t really know what kind of music we play….I guess it’s a blend of a bunch of stuff. Maybe you’ll come and see us….” Mike mentally slapped himself. He barely knew this girl and here he was inviting her to a gig.

Kendra paused for a moment. When her voice came back, it sounded sad. “No, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, that’s alright. We probably won’t have anything scheduled for a while. Early fall is kinda a dead time. Christmas and New Year’s is the best.” Mike glared at the little green book on the table that he kept all the finances in. He didn’t like what it had told him earlier. Thirty dollars was all they had from now until God knows when.

It was like Kendra had read his thoughts. “I imagine that gets hard.”

“We’ll make it through; somehow we always have.”

“So you’re more of a glass half full type I guess.”

“Right now I am. Tomorrow I’ll be complaining and moaning.”

“I won’t be calling you tomorrow, then.” Mike could hear the smile in her voice.

“You’ll be calling me again?”

“If you want me too. I’m not gonna be a crazy stalker chick…..But I do like talking to you.”

Mike felt a warmth spread up his neck. “I, uh, like talking to you, too.” He tried to ignore the looks Peter and Micky were giving him.

“Hey, can you hold on for a minute?”

“Yeah.”

Mike set the phone down. “Guys, hang this up in a minute,” he said as he moved upstairs to pickup the phone in the upstairs bedroom.

“Okay, I’m back. Just had to move upstairs so Pete and Mick would stop giving me looks.”

Kendra laughed. “I’ll bet they think this is pretty weird.”

“Hell, I think this is pretty weird. But I’m willing to go with it.”

****

Davy came home around eleven o’clock. He saw Micky and Peter still sitting in the living room, much in the same positions as they were when he left.

“Hey, fellas!”

“Hey Dave. How was the date?”

“I guess it was alright. She was a little to ditzy. And she giggled weird. Where’s Mike?”

“Upstairs on the phone.”

“With a girl?”

“I guess. It was kinda weird, I think she was just dialing numbers and she got ours and now Mike is still talking to her.”

“I think it’s cool. Michael digs her, and you guys know how often he goes out on dates,” Peter chimed in from the bandstand.

Micky frowned at Davy. “Did Peter just say something that made some sense?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Davy was going towards his and Peter’s room. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you lot in the morning.”

“Night, Dave!”

****

Micky moved up the iron staircase, anxious to get to bed. He hated it when the weather changed to cold; he couldn’t go outside, he couldn’t surf or play volleyball on the beach. Because no one was on the beach, it was hard to find dates. He hung around the pad and got bored. Too much pent up energy made him lethargic and uncharacteristically grouchy for the first month or two of cold weather.

He opened the door to the room to see Mike sprawled out on his bed, still on the phone with what’s-her-name. Micky rolled his eyes and started to back out of the room.

“Hey, Micky, I’ll go back downstairs. Come in here and go to bed….”

“No, man, don’t bother. Davy and Peter have already gone to bed, I’ll just sleep on the couch.” Micky gathered the comforter from his bed and a pillow.

“Mick, don’t….” Mike began, but Micky had already slammed the door behind him.

Mike sighed. “Sorry about that, I don’t know what’s going on with him….”

“Sometimes people get depressed at the season change. I forget what the name for it is, but the hospital is usually filled with sad, cold people.”

“Ah ha, so you work in a hospital.”

“No. But I do think it’s time for me to go.” Mike heard her yawn. “Early morning, you know.”

“Right. You’ll call back tomorrow?”

“If I can. Goodnight Michael.”

“Goodnight.”

Mike sighed as he hung up the phone, already missing her voice even though his ear was numb. He knew it wasn’t like him to get hung up on a girl this easily, but there was just something about that Kendra Thomas….

 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter 2

The next week flew past. Rehearsals began taking place earlier and earlier so that they were over by the time Kendra called. Mike would always take these calls upstairs in his and Micky’s room, so that he wouldn’t disturb the others.

The other reason for this was because he told Kendra things that he had never told his roommates. She didn’t judge, and was a kind listener. True, if given the chance, she would talk his ear off, but she always knew when to listen.

She also told him things, things she said no one else knew. She never told him where she lived or worked, but she seemed to tell him everything else. They would talk for hours, discussing everything they could possibly think of.

Kendra was smart, she said she read a lot. She knew what was going on in the news, and knew just a little bit about everything. And she was considerate, one evening mentioning an article in a science magazine about space travel that she thought Micky might be interested in. Mike had hunted down the magazine and shown it to Micky, who thought it was fantastic. Mike did make careful sure not to tell him that the article had come from Kendra.

Mike knew his friends had mixed emotions about his new….whatever Kendra was. Micky was blatantly opposed to it, making uncharacteristically scathing remarks about the relationship when Mike wasn’t around, and was always very sarcastic about it. Davy had pulled Mike to the side and told him to make sure to be careful; you could never tell about some people. Mike had been surprised about that, but then again, if you were going to get relationship advice, it might as well be from Davy. Peter was the only one openly happy about it, telling Mike that he deserved to be happy.

One evening, Mike and Micky had gone out to the music store for a few things, and the phone rang. Peter picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Oh, don’t tell me. You must be Peter or Micky, right?”

“Right. And you must be Kendra.”

“You’re smarter than Michael gives you credit for,” she said, but she said it kindly, and Peter laughed.

“I don’t hear that often, thank you. And I guess you know I’m Peter now, huh?”

“You sound happy. I’ve gathered that Micky doesn’t sound happy.”

“Yeah, not lately. I miss the old Micky. If you call back in summer he’ll be better.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

“He dragged Michael off to the music store about an hour ago, so he should be home soon. Well, knowing Micky, he’s probably stalling Michael so he’ll miss your call.”

“Lucky, then, that you were there to answer the phone, and so quickly, too. Michael’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

“I think he’s lucky to have you, too. He lights up when you call.”

Kendra paused, and Peter thought he could hear the blush in her voice. “Really, he lights up?”

“He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

“You are a lot smarter than Michael gives you credit for, I must say.”

Peter smiled. “I do my best.” Just then, he heard the car pull up.

“Hey, the car’s here. I’m gonna go on ahead and say bye because I know the first thing Micheal is going to do is rush upstairs to get the phone.”

Kendra laughed. “Thank you. I guess this is good-bye then.”

“Yeah, maybe we’ll talk again.”

“Maybe.”

Just then, Mike burst through the door and Peter pointed up the stairs with the hand still holding the phone. He whooped and rushed up to the room. Peter waited until he distantly heard Mike’s voice coming through the earpiece and then he hung up the phone.

Micky rolled his eyes at Peter. “Why’d you have to answer the phone, huh?”

“Come on, man. Michael’s happy, he’s honestly happy. Why can’t you be happy for him?”

“That’s not Mike. That’s some crazy guy who looks like Mike but acts like Davy.”

“He’s in love. What can you expect?”

****

“I’m sorry, but Mick kept wanting to look at cymbals and amps, and I couldn’t make him leave….”

“It’s alright, I had a nice talk with Peter. He, uh, he said you light up when I call.”

Mike felt himself turn red. “Well, I guess I do….a little.”

“Have I ever told you that this is the best part of my day? Calling you. It makes my day. I go to sleep every night with your voice still running in my head, and I sleep better for it. I know it’s only been a week, but I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

****

The next few weeks became a blur. Mike felt like he was walking on clouds; happier than he could ever remember being in years. For a while he was even able to ignore Micky’s bad mood.

Micky had begun to get worse. It seemed like he was always angry about one thing or another; if it wasn’t Mike it was the weather, if it wasn’t the weather it was Peter, if it wasn’t Peter it was something else. His bad mood seeped through the pad like a dismal fog, affecting everyone except Mike, who was totally and completely oblivious, lost in his own little world.

One Friday afternoon, Mike and Peter were sitting in the kitchen eating lunch. Davy had gone out again, agreeing to meet a girl at the café where she worked. Peter suddenly checked his watch; it was twelve-thirty, and Micky hadn’t been seen all morning.

“Uhm, Michael?”

“Huh? What’s up?” He had been daydreaming off.

“Have you seen Micky today?”

“Yeah, he was still asleep when I came down here for breakfast.”

“But you haven’t seen him since?”

“No, why?”

“It’s past noon, he’s usually up by now. Normally you notice this kind of….”

Mike dropped his fork. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I’ve just been a little….off. I’ll go and see if he’s alright.”

Mike took off up the staircase, wondering why he hadn’t noticed Micky not being up. Peter was right, he usually knew when one of his friends was acting weird. He knew he was a little caught up with Kendra, but he hadn’t thought he was that bad…

He knocked on the bedroom door, and then pushed it open. “Mick?”

Micky was still in bed, covers pulled up over his head, and Mike could just hear him snoring. He walked over and sat on the side of the bed. “Mick? Mick? Mick!”

The snoring abruptly shut off and Micky jolted a little under the covers. “Whaddo you want?”

“I wanna know why you’re still in bed.”

“Man, it’s the middle of the night! Leave me alone.”

“Middle of the….” Mike shook his head and pulled the covers down. Micky groaned and shook his head miserably at the sudden onslaught of light.

“Mike, what….”

“It’s almost one o’clock. You’ve slept the whole day…..”

Micky interrupted him. “And you’re only just now coming around to check on me?”

Mike spluttered. “I….well….no, I….”

Micky pulled the covers back over his head. “Go away, Mike. I don’t feel good, and you only make it worse. Just….go away.”

“Micky, I.....”

“Go away!”

Mike sighed heavily. “Alright. I’m going to the store….Do you need anything?”

“Nothing you can get on isle seven.”

“Er….okay. Do you think you’ll be alright for rehearsal this afternoon?”

Micky was silent for a while. “I dunno. Just go.”

****

Peter turned when he heard Mike come down the steps. “Hey, how’s he doing?”

“He wouldn’t talk to me. He said he wanted me to leave, so I did. I have to go to the store before rehearsal, if you want to try and get him to tell you something.”

“Yeah, alright….”

“I should have noticed….”

Peter nodded. “So should I.”  
  
****

Micky felt someone sit on his bed again. He groaned angrily and began to sit up. “Mike, what part of ‘go away’ do you not…..” He stopped when he saw Peter instead of Mike.

“Oh. Sorry, man.”

“That’s alright.”

Micky looked around. “Did Mike go?”

“Yeah, he left about ten minutes ago.”

Micky sighed and flopped back on the pillows. “He actually left….”

“You told him to.”

“Yeah, but…..Look, a month ago, Mike would have been up here mothering me at nine-thirty and wouldn’t have left the room until I agreed to eat soup until I felt better.”

Peter nodded. “You know what it’s like, though, those first few weeks of being with someone….”

Micky sighed again. “Yeah, I know. I just wish he….”

He paused, obviously embarrassed at what he was about to say. “You wish he what?” Peter prodded.

“I wish he still paid as much attention to me as he used to.”

Peter frowned. “You…You like him don’t you?”

Micky was paying too much attention to a loose string on his comforter. “I might…..”

“Micky….”

“What? It’s not like I woke up and decided ‘oh, I’m going to develop a crush on my best friend today’.”

“You what?” Micky and Peter jumped and turned towards the door; Davy was standing there.

Micky threw his hands up. “Great! Thanks, Pete!”

“What’d I do?”

“Who were you talking about?”

“Michael,” Peter said before Micky could wave him to shut up.

“Huh…” Davy sat at the foot of the bed. “I would have never pegged you to be one of those types, Mick….”

Micky spluttered. “I’m not! Not that type, I mean. Mike’s the only one I’ve ever…..you know. And I only realized a few days before that woman…..”

“Kendra,” Peter interrupted sharply.

“Yeah, that one, started calling. That’s not right, is it; a woman calling a guy like that. She must be some kind of loose…..” Peter shot Micky a Look before he could finish the sentence.

“I could say it’s not right about you, too, Micky….”

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me!”

“Oh, really, was that the pot calling the kettle black?”

One moment, Micky was laying back on the bed, totally at peace, and the next he had launched himself at Peter, knocking them both off into the floor.

“Guys!” Davy tried to stop them but it was useless. They were kicking and punching, a blur of motion on the bedroom floor.

“Knock it off, you two!” Davy kept up trying to separate his friends, but they were too into it now. None of them were able to tell later who it was that accidentally tripped Davy, but he felt himself falling and then he felt a sharp pain in his head. He just barely heard one of his friends call out his name before he fell into darkness.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter 3

Mike rushed in through the hospital doors. He had gotten back from the store when he had seen the note taped to the door. ‘Gone to hospital. Davy hit head, no time to explain now, gotta go bye.’

“Hey, Mike!”

He turned around; Micky was sitting in the waiting room, looking absurd since he was still in his pajamas.

“Mick, what happened? Where’re the others, and what…..” He squinted to get a better look at Micky’s face; he had a terrible looking black eye, his bottom lip was swollen, and his hand was wrapped up. “….what happened to your face?”

“Don’t worry about me; Peter looks worse than this….”

“What!” Mike exploded. “What happened to you guys?”

“Uhm….well, you see….There was a fight.”

Mike looked like he was going to yell more. “Now, before you start, I want to tell you it was all my fault, and…..”

“Yeah, I figured that. Peter’s not stupid enough to pick a fight with someone.”

As much as Micky didn’t like it when Mike was mad at him, he was secretly very happy; Mike was obviously back on top form.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have started anything. I don’t know who did it, it was an accident, but Davy must have gotten pushed or tripped and he hit his head on one of the bedside tables.”

Mike groaned and sat down in one of the chairs. “And how’s Peter?”

“Oh, he’s fine. I knocked him a couple of good ones, but he’ll be alright. He’s with Davy right now. They sent me out here to be the welcoming committee.”

Mike sighed. “I guess we’d better go and see them….”

Micky led him back to a room filled with beds hidden behind curtains. They stopped at one about halfway down the room. Davy was sitting on the side of the bed, a doctor sewing a gash on the back of his head. Peter was watching, looking apologetic. His nose was swollen to nearly twice it’s normal size and he had several nasty looking bruises on his face.

Mike smacked Micky on the shoulder. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re an idiot, that’s what for!”

Peter laughed and Davy grinned feebly, obviously terrified to move while the doctor was behind him. “Michael, it wasn’t totally his fault….It was my fault, too.” He looked at Micky. “I shouldn’t have egged you on. I’m sorry.”

Micky shuffled and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have started anything.”

The doctor was obviously getting nervous having so many people around. “Uhm….There’s some paper work you’ll have to fill out, if one of you’d like to go to the desk and get it….”

“Yeah, I’ll go and get it. I’ll be in the waiting room if anyone needs me,” Mike said and backed out of the makeshift room. As much as he hated to admit it, blood had always made him a little sick to his stomach, and he didn’t want to be sick today.

The nurse at the desk gave him a stack of forms to fill out, including one that was an impressively large bill. Mike yawned as he filled in the blank spaces on the paper and occasionally he glanced at his watch. He knew he was going to miss Kendra’s call that night, but he also knew that this was more important. He had been slipping away from his friends and that couldn’t happen again.

Mike gave the forms back to the nurse who thanked him and turned around to file them. He was going to ask her if there was anyway to make the bill a little less extreme, but he was suddenly distracted.

Behind the nurse was a large bookcase where all the charts of the patients on the floor were kept. The name of the patient in room number one nineteen struck out at him. ‘Kendra Thomas’.

****

Mike knew he shouldn’t be so nosy. Usually he wasn’t nosy, he minded his own business and didn’t get lost in a creepy hospital trying to find his mystery chick. That just wasn’t the sort of person that he was. He thought it would be easy to find number one nineteen, but it wasn’t. He had found the morgue….several times, but no Kendra.

Eventually, he found an empty lobby next to a bustling nurse’s station. He sat down for a minute to try and regain his bearings. Mike glanced around; there was a sign on the wall. ‘Rooms 100-124 Hallway A. Rooms 125-150 Hallway B.’

Excited at finally getting somewhere, Mike got up and walked down Hallway A. Room 119 was near the end of the hallway, and sure enough the name outside the door was Kendra Thomas. The door was open and Mike peeked around the door frame.

The woman inside was about his age, maybe a year or so older. She had shoulder-length reddish brown hair that was pulled back from her face. She had large brown eyes and freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was looking at her telephone as if it had affronted her in some way and she stuck her tongue out at it. Mike tried not to laugh; he knew this was his Kendra.

He knocked gently on the door and she looked over at him. “Hello.”

Mike grinned. Yep, that was definitely her. “Hi.”

Her eyes got huge. “Michael?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”

She sat up a little more in the bed. “What’re you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

She grinned. “I asked you first. And sit down, please.” Kendra pointed at a chair in the corner of the room.

“Micky and Peter got in a fight,” Mike began as he sat down. “Davy was trying to break it up and he fell. He’s getting some stitches.”

“What was the fight about?”

“I don’t actually know. I was at the store when it happened….” He sighed. “I should have been there. I wasn’t paying enough attention to Micky, he was upset when I left…..I should have been there.”

“If there hadn’t been a fight, you wouldn’t have come here. If you hadn’t come here….well, you wouldn’t be here.”

Mike laughed. “You have a good point. Now, why are you here?”

Kendra looked at her hands in her lap. “I, uh, I live here.”

“What?”

“Yeah. This is my home. I was here in town for two weeks in an apartment when I realized that I was staying too tired for too long after the move. I went to the doctor and after many many long and painful tests, they told me I had a rare blood disease.” She laughed weakly. “It has a weird name, I can’t even pronounce it, and the doctor barely could. It makes me weak. I can’t get out of this bed without being exhausted.”

Mike didn’t know what to say. He had questions, but he didn’t know how to ask them. Kendra took his silence as an okay to go on. “Uhm, when I decided to stay here, I was alone. I had only made one friend here and that was my landlady. The nurses are real nice, but they have to work, they can’t take too much time to talk to Lonely Dying Girl. So one evening I picked up the phone and started dialing numbers….and I met you.” She smiled, but still stared at her hands.

“You could have told me.”

“This isn’t something I wanted to tell you over the phone. It was hard enough saying that I loved you over the phone, never mind something like this.”

“You were planning on telling me soon, though, right?”

“Of course. I was actually going to tell you tonight, but you weren’t at home.”

They both laughed. Mike was about to tell her that he was almost glad his friends that his friends had wound up in the hospital, but suddenly Micky stuck his head in the door.

“There you are! You know me and Pete have been looking all over for you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I guess I lost track of…..”

“Let me guess, you must be Micky?”

Micky looked at Kendra as if just noticing her. “Who are…..” His eyes widened suddenly as if in recognition. “Mike, can I talk to you out here for a minute?”

Mike followed him out in the hall. “Mike, is that the chick you’ve been talking to?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it is. Is was an accident I found her, I saw her name on a chart when I gave the nurse all that paperwork.”

“What is she doing here?”

Mike looked down at the floor, reality seeping in a little bit. “She’s sick.”

“I’m sorry, Mike. I really am.” Mike looked back up and nodded. Micky went on. “The nurse gave me the final copy of the bill,” he said as he handed it over. “How are we going to….”

“I don’t know right now, Mick, but we’ll figure something out.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but he didn’t think he did a good job. “Let’s go get the others and go home. Give me just a minute and I’ll be down there.”

Mike turned back to the room and Micky hesitated for just a moment. “Mike, give me the keys.”

“What? Why?”

“You stay here, and I’ll drive the others home. Call when you’re done and I can come back.”

Mike beamed, the first true smile Micky had seen from him all day. He handed over the keys. “Thank you, Mick.”

Micky took the keys and turned to leave. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

****

Micky had just crawled into bed to go to sleep when the phone rang. He groaned loudly into the pillow before reaching over to pick up the phone.

“Mike, I really hope this is you….”

He heard laughter. “Yeah, it’s me. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Almost. You want me to come and get you?”

“Yeah. Thank you again for doing this…..”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in a few minutes…..” Micky hung up the phone and climed back out of bed. He tugged a shirt on and trudged downstairs, grabbing the keys as he went.

Peter wobbled sleepily out of his and Davy’s room just as Micky stepped off the staircase. “Who was that on the phone?”

“It was Mike. I’m going to pick him up. You wanna come along?”

Peter yawned widely. “No, not really. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

Micky picked up the pain pills that the doctor had given Davy for his head and tossed them to Peter. “Dave won’t miss one, and it’ll help you sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

Peter looked at the bottle for a moment, then shrugged. Micky was right; Davy wouldn’t miss just one…..

****

Micky could see Mike when he pulled into the parking lot. He was sitting on the bench with the most goofy love-struck look on his face. Micky had seen the look plenty of times on Davy’s face, but on Mike it looked out of place. For the first time, Micky wished he had a less descript car so he could circle the block for a while, but he knew better.

Mike climbed in the car and quickly gave Micky a sideways hug. “Thank you so much.”

Micky was frozen in place. It was totally out of character for Mike to be hugging people in thanks. He was also frozen because he was totally aware of Mike’s arms around his shoulders, the feel of his cheek just resting on his arm, the strength that was there.

He finally managed to pat Mike’s arm awkwardly. “Erm….you’re still welcome.”

Mike let go and settled back in his seat and Micky was able to start the car. They drove home in silence.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter 4

Mike soon found his own mode of transportation to the hospital; he had uncovered a rusty old bicycle in the garage and with Micky’s help got it fixed up. Mike would leave every evening after rehearsal and not come back until midnight.

After a week or so of this new routine, Micky began to notice that things around the pad were not getting taken care of the way they used to be. Dishes piled up in the sink unwashed, every surface was getting cluttered, the shopping hadn’t been done in a while.

One day, Micky rearranged the chore list, give Mike and Davy things that were usually done in the morning and keeping the evening chores for him and Peter, seeing as they were almost always there. Micky began to take on more things, too; he began calling people up looking for gigs, and he actually got a few. Slowly but surely, he was taking Mike’s place as leader.

Unfortunately, he and Mike both missed the dreadful problem brewing in their own home. Peter had only intended on taking one of those pain pills, but when Davy had announced the next day that his head felt fine, Peter had decided to keep them. He wasn’t sleeping right, and even though he knew that he shouldn’t be taking pain pills just to sleep, he quickly found that he couldn’t sleep without them.

Peter had seen it before; junkies back in the Village, hooked on one drug or another, and he knew that what he was doing was dangerous. But for some reason, he could not make himself stop. It soon began to affect his day-time, too; he was groggy in the morning, and spent most of the day in a fog, not really noticing what he was doing. No one noticed this change because they were so used to Peter acting a little out there; always the dummy.

****

Mike zipped down the side road, eager to get to the hospital. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to dislike being at the Pad. His friends didn’t get him the way they used to. Before, it was his bandmates who knew him best, but now it wasn’t. Kendra understood him better than his friends ever had, and even though he knew he had promised himself that he wouldn’t put Kendra before his friends again, Mike felt he was more himself with her.

Kendra was sitting up in bed when Mike came in. She looked a little nervous as he sat down on the bed.

“Hi Michael. How has your day been?”

“It’s been alright, I guess,” he answered as he leaned down to kiss her. “Peter somehow managed to burn the soup he was making for lunch. I still haven’t figured that one out….”

“You haven’t eaten? Do you want to go to the cafeteria?”

Mike looked at her funny. “No, not really. What’s up?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking….And, we don’t have all the time, you know?”

Mike just looked at her and waited for her to go on. “I mean, I could die in a month or you could be drafted and sent off….”

“As pleasant as this is going….”

Kendra laughed. “No, let me finish. We don’t get to worry about tomorrow like most people do, right?”

“Uh, sure.”

“So we have to live for today….Carpe diem and all that.”

“If you say so.”

“I talked to the notary today and she said she had all the papers we’d need….”

“Papers for what?”

Kendra stared at her hands for a moment. “Will you marry me, Michael?”

****

Davy had just walked in from a date and he collapsed on the couch next to Micky. Apparently, this evening’s lovely lady had exhausted him. Micky was watching some scary movie and laughing at the hokey effects. Peter was snoring lightly in the armchair.

The phone rang unexpectedly and Micky reached over to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Micky, hey. Are you guys at home?”

“Why, no. We’re at the pizza place and by happy coincidence you dialed the right wrong number.”

“Smart-ass. I meant are all three of you there?”

“Yeah, Davy just walked in.”

“Great. Get everyone in the car and come down here.”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Just get down here, please.” Mike’s end of the phone hung up and Micky set down his.

“Hey, Pete! Wake up, man, we gotta go.”

Peter groggily opened his eyes and Davy asked, “What does he need us for?”

“I dunno, he wouldn’t say. It sounded pretty important, though….”

****

When the three entered the room, Mike and Kendra were sitting on the bed together and laughing at something that the hospital Chaplain, who was standing in the corner, had said. Mike looked up as his friends came in.

“Hey guys. Good timing.”

“What’s going on?” Davy asked as he sat in one of the chairs in the room.

Mike and Kendra looked at each other and beamed. “We’re getting married.”

All three Monkees’ reactions were different. Davy’s eyes widened and he visibly paled, looking as if the thing he had been dreading the most had just happened. Micky sank in another chair, his knees feeling suddenly weak. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Peter grinned a little lopsidedly. “Way to go, Michael.” Even in his drug-induced stupor, he was honestly happy for his friends.

After Peter had sat down, the Chaplin began speaking. When he got to the part asking if anyone had any objections to speak up, Davy glanced over at Micky. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but didn’t say anything.

When it was over, Micky suggested quietly that they leave, and give the newlyweds their space. Lost in his own bliss, Mike didn’t notice the tears streaking down Micky’s face as he practically ran out the door, or the almost fearful look on Davy’s face as he followed Micky closely. Peter walked over to the bed and shook Mike’s hand before vaguely wandering out of the room, whistling slightly out of tune. Mike noticed none of this.

****

When Mike got home that night, well after midnight, Davy was the only person still up. Peter had zonked out just as soon as they walked through the door, and Micky had had to drag him into his room. Micky had also gone to bed earlier than usual, although he wasn’t asleep, preferring to be miserable by himself in the dark room.

Davy was waiting up for Mike to get home, intending to have a talk with him. When Mike came in, he was sitting on the couch and reading one of Peter’s music magazines.

“Hey, mate.”

“Hey. Are the other guys asleep already?”

“Yeah. Look, Mick had this idea about us going out to lunch together tomorrow. Sort of a celebratory thing.” Technically, this wasn’t true; the lunch idea had been Davy’s, but Micky had numbly agreed to it in the car.

“That sounds great!” Mike yawned. “I think I’m gonna turn in, too. It’s been an exciting day.” He grinned at Davy and then turned to the stairs, but Davy stopped him.

“Hey, Mike, wait up a minute. There’s something I need to talk to you about….”

He sat down in the chair near the couch. “Alright. What’s up?”

“I want you to know that I am very happy for you. Kendra seems great, and I know I’ve never seen you so happy before….”

“But?” Mike looked a little annoyed, as if he knew what was coming.

“Well, she’s dying, Mike.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Yes, he looked definitely annoyed now.

“I know you do, but….I mean, you’ve never lost your wife before, and….”

“Neither have you, Dave.”

Davy nodded and looked at his hands. “Right. I’m just worried about you, is all. You aren’t the only one who worries too much sometimes.”

Mike grinned a little at that. “I know. And I appreciate it, but there’s nothing to be worried about.” He sighed heavily. “At least, not yet.”

Davy nodded. “Alright. I guess I can let you go to bed now.”

Mike smiled at him and went upstairs, leaving Davy alone to brood in the dark living room about the past and the future.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter 5

Breakfast the next morning was a silent affair. Mike and Micky sat at opposite ends of the table; Mike was acting normally (well, a few months ago his friends would have said he was unusually happy), but Micky was avoiding Mike and Davy’s gazes. He was trying to hide the dark circles under his eyes, caused by not sleeping the night before. Davy was also unusually quiet, still brooding over thoughts brought up from his talk with Mike. At some point he excused himself to go and make sure Peter was awake.

A few moments later, Davy came back, looking concerned. “Guys, I think there’s something wrong with Peter.”

Micky finally looked up. “What makes you say that?”

“I can’t wake him up and he looks all flushed, like he has a fever….”

Mike and Micky glanced at each other and got up. Davy had been right; Peter was proving impossible to wake up, and little beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead.

“Maybe if we hit him….” Micky suggested, and leaned forward to smack Peter on the arm. Mike grabbed his wrist and he shook his head.

“Don’t do that.” Micky felt Mike’s fingers tighten around his wrist before gently letting go. He felt the breath catch in his throat for a moment.

“Right. Sorry.” Micky glanced over at Davy just in time to see him roll his eyes.

“Oh, I’ve got it! Didn’t he buy a gong at a garage sale a while back?” Mike asked.

Davy nodded excitedly. “Yeah! It’s in the closet…”

A few minutes later found the three Monkees gathered around the ornate gong, all of them had their ears plugged. Mike mouthed ‘three, two, one,’ at Micky, and he hit the instrument as hard possibly could.

The idea worked; Peter sat bolt upright in the bed, but after looking around for a second and muttering something incoherent about a cannon he slumped back on the pillows and was asleep again.

Mike shook his shoulder gently. “Pete, wake up.”

Peter opened his eyes a crack. “Huh?”

“Hey. You want us to take you to the doctor?”

He shook his head. “No, please don’t.” His voice sounded weak.

Davy sat on the side of the bed. “Are you sure, man? I mean, what if it’s something that catches?”

Peter shook his head again. “It’s not contagious.” His eyes had closed back, but he seemed to feel the uncertain looks that his friends shared. “Look in the drawer….”

Davy reached over and looked in the table next to Peter’s bed. “Hey, aren’t these the pills that doctor gave me?”

Micky snatched the bottle from Davy’s hand and groaned. “Pete, I told you to just take one….”

Davy glared at Micky. “You did what?”

Micky looked back at him guiltily. “He said he couldn’t sleep…..I didn’t think that he’d get hooked on them!”

“I couldn’t sleep the next night either….” Peter droned, half-asleep. “So much going on….worried about all of you guys….” He laughed quietly. “I just couldn’t sleep….” With that final word, he drifted back off.

Mike sank down on Davy’s bed and set his head in his hands. “This is all my fault….”

“Huh? How do you figure?” Micky asked, shaking the empty pill bottle he still held.

“I should have been paying attention. He’s been acting weird for a few weeks, and I didn’t even notice.”

“Mike, none of us did. This is just as much your fault as it is mine and Davy’s.”

“No, you don’t get it….When Peter moved out here, I promised his mom that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him…..” Micky snorted.

“Hey, I promised your mom the same thing, shotgun…..Anyway, I’m the leader, and that makes this my fault.”

Micky glanced at Davy before he crossed his arms. “You aren’t leader anymore, Mike.”

“Huh?”

“You heard. The leader is supposed to get us gigs, keep us organized, and make sure we don’t freeze or starve. You haven’t been doing any of that.” Micky felt afraid of standing up to Mike this way, but he and Davy had agreed; if there was one more big slip-up, they’d tell Mike he wasn’t leader anymore.

Mike looked lost for a minute. “You’re right. I…I am so sorry.”

He looked so heartbroken that Micky wanted to break out in tears for a moment. Davy sat next to Mike on the bed. “Look, Mike, we know you’re going through a bunch of stuff right now…..We talked about it, and me and Mick thought you might need something like a vacation, you know, from being leader.”

“I’ve been taking care of stuff for a while, I guess you just didn’t notice….But we thought it would be good to make it official. I’m leader now, but only until you think you can do it again. Alright?”

Mike smiled ruefully. “Why are you asking me? You’re the leader now.”

That broke the tension in the room and they all relaxed. The transfer of power had been peaceful.

“So, do you have any gigs lined up?”

“Yeah, actually, I have two. One’s the day after tomorrow and the other is in a week. Hey, how long do you guys think Peter’ll be out?”

“Well, he probably won’t be up for this gig…..”

Davy wrinkled his nose. “I guess I’d better go on and practice on the bass.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dave,” Micky began. “We’ll turn the sound up on the other amps and the bass amp down. If you mess up, no one’ll be able to hear it.”

Mike leaned back on the bed, feeling strangely sad that his time as leader was temporarily over, but also incredibly proud of Micky. He knew that the band was in good hands.

****

Sure enough, poor Peter was still in withdrawal the evening of the gig, the first gig they’d had in a long while. Mike, Micky, and Davy were beginning to pack up the car when the phone jangled unexpectedly.

Mike answered it. “Hello?”

A strange look came over his face and he sat down on the couch, still holding on to the phone. “Is she alright?”

He listened to the answer and clearly didn’t like it. “So I need to get down there?”

He nodded. “Alright. Thank you….”

Mike numbly hung up the phone. “She’s been really weak lately….They said she had some sort of kidney failure and they’re going to have to do surgery….”

Micky and Davy looked at each other. “Dave, grab the keyboard instead…..”

“What?” Davy squawked. “I barely know where half the chords are….”

“It’s a birthday party of a friend who I met at one of those science fiction shows I go to. We’ll tell them it’s experimental and they’ll dig it. Mike, we’ll drop you off by the hospital.” Micky turned to look at his friend on the couch. He was still staring ahead blindly.

Micky walked over to him while Davy was hauling the keyboard out to the car. “Mike, she’ll be fine. You just need to be there with her.” Mike looked up and nodded. “Alright, you hop in the car and we can drop you off.” Mike nodded again and stood up, following Micky out to the car.

****

The gig was a success. The science fiction geeks had loved the new beat that Micky and Davy claimed they were experimenting with. They would have been more pleased with themselves if they weren’t rushing to the hospital to check on Mike.

Kendra was still out in surgery, so Mike was sitting in her room, looking lost and alone. He glanced up when his friends came in. “Hey. How’d the gig go?”

“They liked us, I think,” Davy said, sitting in another chair in the room.

Micky stayed standing up. “Have you heard anything back yet?”

Mike shook his head. “No. It’s been hours now….” He looked at his watch for what seemed like the millionth time. It was nearing one o’ clock in the morning.

Micky took a deep breath. “Mike, go home with Davy. You need to get some sleep…you both do.”

“But, I can’t…..”

Micky read his mind. “I’ll be here. I’ll call as soon as I hear something. I promise.”

“But….”

Micky focused on doing his best impersonation of his friend. “Michael,” he said sternly. “Go home. Sleep. And check on Peter for me.”

Mike looked like he was going to argue, but turned to Davy instead. “Was I ever that annoying?”

Davy chuckled sleepily. “Worse, mate. A lot worse.”

Mike stood up resignedly. “Alright, Dave. Let’s go home….” As Mike walked past Micky going out the door, he stopped.

“You’ll call?” He sounded unsure.

“I promise,” Micky said, and wished his friends a good night, marveling at the strange changes that came along with being leader.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter 6

Kendra groggily cracked open one eye. She didn’t remember much of what had happened the day before, except for asking one of the nurses to call Michael for her. She turned her head and was surprised to see Micky.

The floor next to his chair was littered with Styrofoam cups that must have previously held coffee. Despite that, he had fallen asleep, one of Kendra’s books in his lap. She recognized it as her copy of ‘On The Road’.

“Mick….” She tried to say, but it didn’t come out as more than a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Mick!”

Micky startled awake. “Huh? Oh, you’re awake.”

“I think I am.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not so good, I’ll be honest. Where’s…..”

Micky rolled his eyes. “He’s at home, sleeping.”

Kendra glared at him as best as she could. “You don’t like me much, do you?”

“I don’t know you well enough to not like you.”

“You dislike me on principle.”

That confused him. “What?”

“You like Michael, I get it.”

“What? I do not….Where’d you….” Micky was spluttering and turning red. Kendra laughed but then turned serious.

“I saw the look on your face when you were here the other day. I worked it out.”

“You didn’t tell Mike, did you?”

“Of course not. That’s something you’ll have to tell him one day….”

Micky snorted. “Yeah, that’s not likely to happen.”

“Why not?”

He looked at Kendra incredulously. “Well, he doesn’t feel the same way, for one…..”

“How do you know?”

Micky spluttered some more then frowned. “Why’re you trying to set me up with your husband?”

Kendra laughed. “I’m not! I just….” She turned serious again. “He won’t be my husband for much longer and….Well, I want to know that when he’s ready to move on….” She paused looking for the right words. “It’ll be good to know that he has someone around with his best interests at heart.”

“You mean me?”

“Yeah. I know we both worry about him….It helps to know Michael will have people around that’ll look out for him.”

Micky nodded. “We’ll do our best.”

“And you’ll tell him one day?”

Micky was confused again. “Tell him what?”

“You know what.”

“Oh, that…..I might. Tell him, I mean. It’s not the easiest thing to tell someone.”

Kendra nodded. She was beginning to feel tired again. “I’m sorry, but….”

“No. Go to sleep. When you wake up, Mike’ll be here….I’m going to call him.”

She smiled a little bit and nodded, already half-asleep.

****

True to his word, Micky called the pad and wasn’t surprised when Mike answered it in the middle of the first ring. They made plans for Davy to drop Mike off with his bike, and Micky sat outside the hospital to wait.

The car showed up in record time. Poor Davy must have been dragged out of bed because his hair was sticking up on one side and he was still in his pajamas.

“You look awful,” Mike said, greeting Micky as he pulled his bike out of the backseat.

Micky sighed and opened the passenger side door. “I know. No sleep in two nights; whaddo you expect?”

Mike looked at him. “Thank you, Mick. You don’t know how much I….”

Micky rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up and go see her.”

Mike smiled and waved goodbye to his friends. Micky sat down in the car and looked at Davy. Now that he could see him, Micky noticed he hadn’t slept well either.

“Do you wanna go home?” Davy asked as he started the car.

Micky shook his head. “No, I don’t”

“Good. I don’t either. It’s after noon, you want to grab a drink?”

Micky smiled. “Or two, yeah.”

Davy laughed and started out of the parking lot.

****

Peter opened his eyes blearily. Bright early morning light filtered in through the curtains. He turned over on the bed to see his clock; one o’ clock. Early afternoon light, then.

The past few weeks were a haze; Peter could remember bits and pieces of what had happened. Micky and Davy talking about Mike not leading anymore, the soup he had burned, Mike getting married. Everything else was a blur, although he could vaguely recall telling his friends about the pills he had taken.

Peter shuddered. He knew he was a little ditzy from time to time, but he hadn’t thought he was that stupid; pills, honestly. Well, he had learned his lesson. The next time he had trouble sleeping he would find some other way, a way that wasn’t addictive.

He sat up in the bed, feeling a little shaky, like he had just gotten over the flu. The sheets had been pulled off the bed and he was laying right on the mattress. He felt sticky and he realized that he couldn’t have had a shower in at least three days, and if the empty feeling was any hint, he didn’t think that he had eaten either. Sitting up gingerly on the side of the bed, Peter debated about which was more important; food or shower. He reached up to push the hair out of his eyes and realized that it looked more brown than the usual shade of blonde. Shower, then.

It took Peter a little while to get up from the bed but once he was up and moving he felt a little better. He gathered some clean clothes and stuffed the dirty bed sheets into his laundry bag, deciding that he was going to have to make a trip to the Laundromat today.

Peter made his way into the living room to cross over to the downstairs bathroom. It looked like no one was at home. The back doors were locked, so he knew his roommates weren’t on the beach. He was sure Mike would be at the hospital; Micky and Davy must have taken off to have some fun on their own. Peter didn’t mind; he thought that he’d enjoy the peace and quiet for awhile. He took the longest shower he could ever remember taking, enjoying the hot water washing the remnants of his mistake away.

After the shower, Peter headed straight for the kitchen. After some rummaging, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t find much. He checked in his room and found some loose change that he’d been saving and got enough for lunch and laundry, deciding that this was his day and he’d eat where he wanted.

He wrote a note for his roommates so that they wouldn’t worry if they came back and he wasn’t there. He stuck it to Mr Schneider’s forehead, knowing that the dummy would be one of the first places they looked. Peter gathered some more clothes to be washed and headed out the door.

The car absent from the driveway proved that his friends were out for the day. Peter was glad that the walk to the Laundromat wasn’t very far; his legs began to get shaky again when he was a little more than halfway there and he had to sit down a few times.

After he had unloaded his laundry and counted out all the quarters he’d need, Peter took the rest of his money and went to the deli across the street. Two ham sandwiches, some potato chips, and a soda later, Peter felt much better.

He ate his lunch outside at one of the little tables on the sidewalk. Most Southern Californians would have said this weather was cold, but Peter still retained a lot from living in Connecticut and only thought it was a little chilly.

As he ate, Peter thought about what he had done. He knew it had been stupid and reckless of him, but he could remember that he’d had good reasons.

Peter could remember when Mike had gotten a call that one of his relatives in Texas had died, a relative that Mike had been very close to. He could remember how when Mike came back from the funeral, he hadn’t been the same person for a long while. Mike wasn’t someone who delt very well with loss and Peter was worried that they were going to loose him for good. This was something that could break Mike, and that terrified Peter.

Peter could also remember when Micky had almost sold his drum kit so he could impress some chick that he barely knew from the beach. Micky’s crushes tended to become obsessions. Peter didn’t think that Micky would get that way with Mike, but he also knew that Micky wasn’t one who handled objection well. When Mike turned him down, as Peter was pretty sure he would, Micky would be devastated. That could lead to the end of the band, which scared Peter even more.

Davy was still a mystery; Peter remembered his roommate tossing and turning in his sleep, something he only did when he was stressed over something. He had muttered in his sleep, too, something incoherent that Peter hadn’t been able to hear. Peter wasn’t nearly as worried about him as he was the other band members, but still, it bothered him that something was making the normally composed Davy upset.

Peter sighed and glared at the empty plate in front of him. ‘Maybe I should get back to meditating like I used to,’ he thought, getting up to check on the clothes.

****

When Peter got back home, the first thing that he noticed was that no one had come back yet. The note was on the dummy’s forehead where he had left it and there was still no car. He didn’t mind much, figuring this was a good opportunity to watch what he wanted on the television.

In the middle in a news report on the latest casualty rate in Vietnam, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is this Peter?”

“Uhm, yeah. Who’s this?”

“I’m Kelly, at the Beachside Bar….I, uh, believe you have two friends down here. They wanted to drive home, but I don’t think they’re in a condition to do that.”

“ Micky and Davy are drunk?”

“Oh is that their names? They’ve had me calling them Carlos and Yang-Tzu all afternoon….”

Peter took that as a yes. “I’ll be down there soon.”

The Beachside Bar was a mile away, so it took Peter a little less than half an hour to walk there, wondering why in God’s Name his friends had decided to go out and get drunk.

The bar was dimly lit and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. Peter saw Micky and Davy hunched in front of the jukebox, singing outrageously off key and none of the words were right. He shook his head and walked up to the bar.

“Oh, hey. You must be those guys’ friend.” Kelly was pretty and Peter noticed it. She had longish brown hair that was pulled back and large blue eyes.

“Uh…Yeah, I guess….”

She snorted. “I don’t think I’d want responsibility for them either.”

Peter relaxed a little and laughed. “Do you have the keys?”

She tossed them to Peter and he just managed to catch. “Thanks for calling and letting me know about them.”

“You’re welcome. After the first few rounds they were funny but now they’re just a headache. Do you really make money with them singing?” She asked jokingly and Peter answered with the often used response.

“Who said we make any money?”

Micky and Davy turned around just before Peter walked up to them.

“Petah!” Davy’s accent was thicker than usual.

“Hey, it’s Peter!” Micky exclaimed the same time and gave Peter a great big hug. He reeked of alcohol.

“Ugh! I need to get you guys home and dump you in the ocean.”

The two giggled. “Petah, you’re too nice to do sumthin’ like tha….” Davy sniffed. “We love you, Petah….”

Micky only giggled more. “You can’t drive, Pete, you’re drunk.”

Peter sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. Were was Mike when you needed him? Eventually he managed to talk them into walking outside with him. As they walked past the bar, Davy poked Peter in the side.

“Petah….Hey, Petah….Tha’ bird behind the bar is looking at you….You should get her numbah.” Peter rolled his eyes; it was Kelly who was now turning bright red and trying not to laugh.

“Just keep walking, Dave.”

****

Peter was later ashamed at how relieved he was when his friends passed out in the car. He dragged them in from the car to the downstairs bedroom and put Micky in his bed, not willing to drag him upstairs.

It had been a long day for Peter and even though it was just getting dark outside he was exhausted. He climbed up the staircase and collapsed in Micky’s bed, asleep before his head had hit the pillow.

He woke up once in the middle of the night. Someone had taken off his shoes and pulled the covers up over him. Looking around, Peter saw that Michael had gotten home.

“Michael?”

The bed across the room stirred a little. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry about what I did….”

Mike turned over and face him, his eyes barely open. “What’re you talking about, shotgun?”

“The pills. I’m sorry….”

Mike nodded. “I can understand. I haven’t been sleeping either.” He looked at the dark ceiling, lost in though for a while. “She’s getting worse, Pete.”

“You knew she would.”

Mike nodded. “I know.”

Peter felt his eyes getting heavier. “Go to sleep Michael.”

Mike laughed. “I might be able to tonight. I never realized how loud Mick’s snoring was.”

Peter grinned. “I almost feel sorry for Davy…..”

Soon, the two men were fast asleep.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff starts getting real in this chapter.

Chapter 7  
  
The next week found the Monkees getting ready for the second gig that Micky had been able to get. Melvin Vandersnoot, the boy that they had watched the Christmas before, was having a birthday party for his aunt and he had hired his friends to play.

Mike had left earlier in the afternoon to go to the hospital and the others would pick him up on the way to Melvin’s house. The mood at the pad was extra-excited; the money they would make from this gig would be enough to pay rent and buy groceries with some left over. Melvin understood how his friends lived and was always a little more generous towards them than most people who hired them would be. Had Mike still been in charge he may have objected to what he would have called ‘charity’, but Micky wasn’t bothered by it.

Peter and Davy were both overly excitable that afternoon, Peter having finally gotten over the after-symptoms from the pills and Davy had gotten over whatever strange depressed funk that he’d been in before.

They were still bouncing around and giggling like five year-olds when Micky finally shooed them out the door and into the car. He couldn’t shake a bad feeling that he was having, like something terrible was about to happen. He got these feelings every once and a while, but he’d never had a reason to trust them….but still, he had a bad feeling…..

When they pulled up to the now very familiar hospital, the first sign that something was up was Mike not waiting for them. Micky was sure that he’d told Mike what time they’d be there.

The next sign was when the sat out in the car for about ten minutes and Mike still didn’t show. Peter and Davy had both calmed down and were getting nervous. “Maybe one of us should go in and check on ‘im,” Davy suggested when it had been fifteen minutes.

Right at that moment, Micky jumped when he heard a tap on the window. Mike had finally shown up. “Man, where have you been,” Micky asked as he opened the door.

“I can’t go to the gig tonight,” Mike said flatly, crossing his arms.

“What?”

“I can’t go,” Mike repeated slowly.

“Why not,” Micky asked, climbing out of the car.

Mike shook his head and glanced back at the hospital. “She said she wanted to talk to you guys before you left.” His voice was still flat and he moved back towards the building, not waiting for his friends.

Micky shrugged at the others still in the car and followed Mike. Davy and Peter caught up with him.

The reason for Mike not wanting to go to the gig was apparent as soon as they walked into Kendra’s room. It had only been a week since Micky had last seen her, but she was almost unrecognizable as the same person. Kendra’s face was deathly pale, her half-closed eyes standing out unusually in her face. Her hair was lank, and even it looked paler. She was obviously having trouble breathing, a harsh wheezing noise taking the place of the normal sounds. It was tragically apparent that she was dying.

Mike had sat down on the side of her bed and had said something to her that the others hadn’t been able to hear. She asked him something and they saw him nod. Mike walked over to the doorway where his friends were.

“She wants to talk to you guys. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Mike glanced back at the room for a moment and then left. Micky, Davy, and Peter shared a look and then walked over to the bed, Micky sitting down.

“Hey….”

Kendra grabbed his hand unexpectedly; her skin felt like ice. “He can’t be here.”

“What?”

“He can’t be here. Michael has to go with you to the party…..”

Micky frowned. “Why?”

Kendra rolled her eyes, but it was Davy who answered. “She doesn’t want ‘im here when she dies.” Peter and Micky shot him a look, but he just shrugged at them. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

She nodded. “I can’t do it, he can’t be here. I just….can’t.”

Micky sighed. “How can we make him leave? He won’t do it.”

“He has to, he can’t be here.” She was beginning to sound desperate.

Micky looked at the floor, trying to think. “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise anything….He’ll hate us if we make him go and you aren’t here when he gets back.”

Kendra shook her head weakly. “No, he’ll understand. If he ends up hating anyone it’ll be me.”

Micky opened his mouth to say something about that, but Mike came back right then. He looked strangely blank. “You guys better leave soon or you’ll be late.”

Micky stood up from the bed. “You have to come with us, Mike.”

“What? Why?”

Micky sighed. “Uhm….Well, Davy’s still not good on bass.” This was a lie, Davy was doing excellent on the bass. “And Peter is still not feeling well enough to concentrate on the guitar parts.” Another lie; Peter was feeling fine. Micky chewed on his lip for a bit, not liking what he was about to say. “We need you there and you can’t keep letting us down like this. You either come with us or you’re out of the band.”

The tension in the room at that moment could have been cut with a knife. Micky could see Peter and Davy out of the corner of his eye; tears were already falling down Peter’s face and Davy was obviously having a hard time staying composed. Mike, who Micky was still looking at, simply looked angry.

“Out of the….You can’t kick me out of the band! It’s my band, you bastard!”

Micky crossed his arms, trying to look determined and trying to keep the tears from building up in his eyes. “You made me leader. I can do what I want. And it’s our band, remember?”

Mike turned around and started pacing and pulling at his hair. “But….I need to be here!”

“You need to be with us more,” Micky said as calmly as he could, hating doing this to his friend.

“Michael....I think Micky is right.” Mike stopped pacing and looked at Kendra.

“No, I need to be here with you.”

Kendra shook her head. “Not really. I’ll be alright, I promise.”

Mike sat on the bed where Micky had been before. “You’ll be here when I get back?” His voice choked in the middle of the question. Micky moved back to where Peter and Davy were standing next to the door.

Davy touched Micky’s arm. “You did the right thing, man.”

Micky sighed. “I hope so.”

After a few moments Mike stood up from the bed, scrubbing his face. He leaned down and kissed Kendra. “I’ll see you when I get back?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Mike turned back to the door, stopping to glare at Micky for a second. “I hope you’re happy, Mick,” he said before moving out the door. “I’ll meet you guys back at the car.”

Micky sighed heavily again, and glanced back at Kendra. “See? He hates me now.”

She vaguely waved at her bedside table. “Look in there for me….”

Micky opened the top drawer and on top there was an envelope with ‘Michael’ scrawled on it. “Give it to him later. He won’t hate you.”

He nodded. “Alright.”

“Take care of him for me?”

Micky felt a lump in his throat. He suddenly felt incredibly bad about the things that he had said about Kendra from before, when he was acting like a jealous child. She obviously felt very deeply for Mike, and Micky knew that now. “I promise.”

He walked back out of the door, not really wanting to hear his friends’ goodbyes to Kendra, but also not wanting to sit with Mike out in the car. He sat in one of the waiting room chairs and fidgeted with the envelope he now carried.

Meanwhile, Davy walked up to the bed in the room. “He’ll thank you for this one day. Maybe not for a while, but one day. You’re doing the right thing.”

Kendra smiled at him weakly. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

Davy squeezed her hand gently and stood up. “I hope so, too,” he said backing out of the room to catch up with Micky. That only left Peter.

He sniffed quietly and sat on the bed. “You know, I wish that you and Michael could have had more time together.”

“I wish that, too.”

“Davy’s right; I’m not sure how he knows these sorts of things, but he is right. Michael will be alright eventually.”

Kendra chuckled sleepily, her eyes closing. “Everyone has their secrets, Pete. Let Davy keep his for a little while longer….”

Peter frowned and was about to ask her what sort of secrets she was talking about, but Davy poked his head back in the doorway. “Peter, we need to go soon.”

“Bye,” Kendra said, her eyes now fully closed. Her breathing had evened out a little, and she was sleeping. Peter and Davy slipped out of the room silently, then rushed down the hallway to catch up with Micky.

****

The drive to the Vandersnoot’s house was silent. Micky drove and tried to not glance in the rearview mirror at Mike every ten seconds. Mike sat next to Peter in the back seat; Mike staring angrily out the window and Peter fidgeting with his hands in his lap. Davy sat in the front with Micky, also staring out the window but he looked more distant than angry.

That party would seem to be one of the longest gigs that they had ever played at, Mike checking his watch after every song to emphasis this. Melvin, who had always been a very smart kid, cued onto his friends acting strangely very quickly. Micky drew the odd finger, so he had to tell Melvin and Aunt what was going on. This was not a fun experience.

Finally, it was twelve o’ clock and the party was over. The Monkees packed their gear into the back of their car as quickly as they could and Mike sped out of the Vandersnoot’s drive way.

When he screeched to a halt right outside the hospital doors, Mike jumped out of the car and ran inside. Micky sighed heavily and scooted over into the driver’s seat before they could roll too far.

He parked the car and turned it off. There was almost complete silence as the three friends sat in the car, none of them really wanting to go inside. The minutes seemed to creep by indefinitely, but when Peter glanced at his watch it had only been two.

Eventually, Micky sighed again. “Alright guys. Let’s go in.”


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

There was no way that the other three Monkees could have been prepared for the scene they walked into as they came through the doorway of room one-nineteen. The room was perfectly silent, their breathing the only sound. Mike sat staring blankly at the empty bed in front of him, staring as if seeing something that was no longer there.

He glanced up briefly as the others came in. “The nurses said that she died about an hour after we left.” There was hardly any emotion in his voice. “They said that she had fallen asleep and then she died.” Mike choked a little. “She died alone in her sleep, like an old woman.” Mike’s voice choked again in the middle of the sentence and he dropped his head on the mattress, sobbing.

The others glanced at each other, all at a simultaneous loss for words. After all, what could you say or do? There was no way to fix this problem and they all knew it. Mike’s cries eventually calmed down and his shoulders stopped shaking, but he still kept his face down on the bed.

Micky tentatively walked over behind Mike, pulling the letter out of his shirt were he had been keeping it all night. He stood behind his friend for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip nervously until he got encouraging nods from Peter and Davy. “Erm….Mike, I…..”

Mike looked up at him and Micky stepped back; all the tears had disappeared from his eyes, there was only anger now. “I should have been here,” he said, his voice low.

Micky backed up some more as Mike stood up, now looking angrier than Micky could ever remember seeing him. “Mike, I am so sorry, but….”

Mike moved faster than believed possible, his fist catching Micky right on the side of head. Out of surprise more than anything else, Micky dropped straight to the floor. He dazedly picked himself up off the floor, an odd ringing in his left ear. Davy and Peter were trying to hold Mike back from hitting Micky again as he got up. He shook his head at them. “Let him go, guys.”

Peter and Davy shot each other an unsure look, but released Mike’s arms. He didn’t move, just kept glaring at Micky.

“Mike, you have no idea how sorry I am. But this is what she asked me to do….And she asked me to give you this.” Micky held out the now slightly crumpled envelope. Mike hesitated for a minute, but then took the letter from Micky’s hand. He sat down in the chair and began reading.

****

Michael,

If you are reading this, then you’re probably pretty angry. You will have recently found out that I am dead, and that for some reason you were not there when it happened. I’m not sure which of your innocent friends I will be pinning this responsibility on, but I can tell you that you shouldn’t be angry at them.

You’re a stronger person than I am, Michael. You always have been. I can’t bear to see the look on your face when I die. You can’t be there. Not because I don’t think that you can handle it but because I know that I can’t.

You’ve brought me love and happiness at the darkest part of my life. I don’t want you to see me in pain that way, at the end. You need to remember the happier times. That day we snuck out to the garden and you found the path down to the beach. Those first few phone calls. The night we stayed up till all hours to see the sun rise from the roof.

I know that you must be so angry, not only with me but with whichever of your friends I had to talk into making you leave. Please don’t be angry with them. Your friends are there to take care of you, and they love you. They love you better than I ever could.

Later on, Micky has something he needs to tell you. If he acts like he doesn’t know, just tell him that he promised, and that there is nothing worse than breaking a promise to a dead woman. Davy will be the most help for you. Soon, he will come to you and tell you something he’s never told anyone (well, except his family in England and me). Open up to him, he can help. You don’t give Peter a lot of credit for being as intelligent as he is, but he’s smarter than you think. Listen to him; you may be surprised.

I suppose that this is the last goodbye. I don’t really doubt that we’ll meet up again, but hopefully no time soon. I love you so much, you don’t know. Leaving you has been hard, but missing you….that’ll be beyond words.

Take care of yourself,

Kendra

****

Mike finished reading the letter, but stared at it for a while longer. He still felt angry, but now he was able to control it a little better. He glanced over at Micky out of the corner of his eye; he was absent-mindedly rubbing his ear and there was a pretty impressive bruise forming on his cheek.

Mike cleared his throat guiltily. “I’m sorry, Mick….”

Micky stopped rubbing his ear. “Come again?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Oh….I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. That wasn’t right.”

“No, I think I understand….” Mike glanced back at the letter in his hands, which had begun to shake gently. He sniffed. “It’s what she wanted.”

There was an abrupt knock on the door to the room. There stood an older man, in his forties at least, wearing striped pajamas, a bathrobe, and he carried a briefcase.

“Uhm, yes, are any of you young men Michael Nesmith?”

As if it were some comedic impulse that they couldn’t ignore even at a time like this, all four Monkees raised their hands. “I am,” they chorused.

Mike stood up. “Don’t do that,” he said, moving across the room to shake the man’s hand. “No, really, I’m Michael Nesmith.”

“Ah yes. I am the hospital’s attorney, Tom Franklin, and I was asked to come and discuss Kendra’s estate with you.”

Mike frowned. “Her estate?”

“Yes, her will and such. You were aware, I assume, that she left behind various belongings to you and others?”

“Uh, no. I wasn’t.”

“Oh, well…..You’re getting it anyway.” Mr Franklin sat his case down on the table in the room and began pulling out papers.

“Now, Mr Nesmith,” Mr Franklin tried to begin, but Mike stopped him.

“It’s Mike.”

“Ah, yes. Mike, Kendra already had her final arrangements made a while back. Did she ever discuss this with you?”

Mike sank on to the bed dejectedly. “No. She didn’t.”

“Alright, well, she requested that there be no memorial, only a funeral, to take place on Tuesday. She has already taken care of those arrangements.”

“Where….” Mike paused to clear his throat, but Mr Franklin already knew what the question was.

“The Breendale Cemetary. It’s on the outskirts of the city, on a hill, with a lovely view of the ocean. I have directions somewhere….” Mike could see Micky shift a little out in the corner of his vision.

“I know where it is,” Micky said quietly.

“Excellent. And now, for her estate. Mist….er, Mike….As her husband, she has left you a substantial amount. She owned no property, but there is her inheritance….”

Mike choked. “Her inheritance?”

“I assume she told you? No? Well, Kendra came from an incredibly wealthy family. After her parents passed, she was left all the money and her brother inherited the houses. He would later lose them in gambling debts and would drink himself into an early grave….”

“And then she moved out here,” Mike said finishing the story.

“Indeed. Now, all that money is going to you. Twenty-five thousand dollars sits in an account in your name at the Malibu Bank and Trust. All you have to do is sign these papers I have here…..” Busy rustling in his case, the lawyer didn’t notice the four shocked and awed faces that sat around him for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, but did you say….uhm, twenty-five thousand…”

“Dollars, yes. Sign here, please.”

Mike took the pen from Mr Franklin and stared at the paper in front of him blankly for a moment before signing it. He remembered saying her family was well off, but she never mentioned this….

“Thank you. And now here is the account number, and she also had some things stored in a safe box at that bank. Her instructions were that these also belong to you now, but I am not sure what the items are. Here is the key.”

Mr Franklin began to pack the papers back into his case. “Thank you again. Kendra asked that this be one of the first matters after she passed, but that the other items could wait until later.” He held his hand out to Mike to shake. “My deepest condolences on your loss, Mike. Kendra was a wonderful person.” He quickly shook the others’ hands too, and then left.

The door closed behind him and there was silence until Davy gave a low whistle. “Twenty-five thousand dollars…..”

Mike nodded. “I think we may be able to buy the house off Babbitt.”

Micky laughed. “Yeah, and fix the leaky pipes and the plaster and….Hey, Davy, you can get that bass you wanted for Christmas….”

Peter shook his head. “Hey, guys come on, it’s Mike’s money. Don’t start spending it all already….”

Mike glanced down at the letter still clutched in his hand. ‘Kendra had been right about Peter’, he thought. She had been right about a lot. ‘Your friends are there to take care of you, and they love you. They love you better than I ever could.’.

“We should split it up,” Mike said, interrupting both his thoughts and whatever argument Micky and Peter had gotten into.

“Huh?”

“The money. Split it five ways. Five thousand for the each of us and five for the house. We can buy it off Babbitt and still fix it up. And Micky, since Davy’s bass was your idea you can buy it for him for Christmas.”

Davy whooped and clapped while Micky stuck his tongue out. Mike tried to grin while watching his friends but it was difficult. Peter was watching him. “Michael, are you sure about that?”

Mike grimaced; for some reason, he had begun to associate being called ‘Michael’ with Kendra. He’d forgotten that Peter called him that, too.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It….it feels right.” Peter nodded.

Mike sighed and glanced around the room one more time. “Guys, can we go home now? I’m tired.”

“Yeah, of course, babe,” Micky answered easily, obviously becoming more comfortable with being the leader. Mike thought about what the letter had said about Micky having something to tell him. As Mike moved past him to leave the room, Micky reached out an touched him on the shoulder, and he wondered what on earth it could be.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter 9

Tuesday morning was deceptively sunny and bright, but it was cold, colder than most people could remember it ever being in mid-November. The small gathering of people on the secluded hilltop held their coats tightly around them as the chill wind blew through their hair.

From here, the sounds of the city were muted; no traffic, no people, and it was so distant from the ocean that the waves were unheard as well. Considering that this was a cemetery, the silence could have been thought of as creepy or weird, but most people who came to visit loved ones here called it serene or peaceful.

The gathering on the hilltop today consisted of nine people; the four Monkees, the priest from the hospital, Mr Franklin, and three of the nurses who had worked with Kendra. They were sitting around the freshly-dug grave, the priest the only person speaking.

Mike wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what the man was saying, he simply sat and stared blankly at the ground. To be honest, he felt terrible. The past three days had been so hard. He hadn’t bothered getting out of the bed Saturday. He had been dragged out of bed on Sunday afternoon by Micky who wanted to get him ‘out and about’. Monday had been spent sitting around the house, trying to avoid his friends. Mike understood that they meant well, but he really didn’t want to put up with them now.

And then Tuesday morning had dawned bright and cold. Mike had gotten up earlier than usual, and got his shower before going downstairs for breakfast, not that he was planning on eating anything. After eating some toast that Peter and Davy had forced on him, Mike went back upstairs and put his black suit on. He had never liked this suit, but it was the best one that he had. This was the same suit that he had worn to his brother’s funeral a few years before. Now that he thought about it, he hated the suit.

So now he sat, sandwiched between Micky and Peter; Micky staring off distantly and Peter sniffing quietly into one of Davy’s handkerchiefs. After a moment or so, Mike felt a tug on his sleeve. When he looked up, everyone was watching him, the priest most of all.

Mike cleared his throat nervously. “I….I’m sorry, what?”

“Mr Nesmith, do you have anything you would like to say?”

Mike glanced back down at the fresh dirt, everything blurring suddenly as his eyes filled up with tears. “What….” Mike choked, but was able to finish the sentence. “What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died?”

He looked around frantically, not really seeing anyone else. “What is there to say?” He repeated the question a few times, asking it louder each time, but finally stopping when he felt someone grab at his arm again.

The fifth time he began the question, Mike felt himself dissolve into tears. He was pulled into someone’s arms and Mike was vaguely aware of that someone rocking him gently. Over the oddly distant sounds of his sobs, Mike could hear people beginning to shuffle about. Someone started their car and drove away.

After a minute or so, Mike was able to calm down. Blinking his eyes open, he realized that it was Micky he was being held by. “Leggo.”

Micky hesitated for a second and almost had that pouty face on that he used just before saying, ‘but I don’t want to’, but he let Mike go and he sat up and looked around. The nurses and the priest had gone, but Mr Franklin was still at his car, handing boxes to Peter and Davy.

“He decided that since we would all be here anyway, he’d go on ahead and finish settling the will. Apparently, she left her books to Peter and Davy,” Micky explained, seeing Mike watching the man.

“And what did you get?”

Micky patted a box in the chair next to him. “Science fiction magazines. Tons of them. I think she was more obsessed than me….” This got a vague smile from Mike.

They sat in silence for a minute, Micky chewing on his lip the way he did when he was thinking about something. Eventually, he stood up. “Mike, come with me. There’s something I wanna show you…”

Curious, Mike followed him as Micky led them through the graves, obviously searching for something. After a while, he sat down in the grass at the foot of one of these graves. “Mick, what are we….”

Micky pointed at the gravestone and Mike read it. ‘George Michael Dolenz Sr’.

“Mick, I didn’t know this is where your dad was buried.”

Micky sighed and nodded. “Yep. This hilltop wasn’t always a cemetary.” Micky turned and pointed towards a rock that sat on the bluff over looking the distant ocean. “That’s where he proposed to my mom. He always said he wanted to be buried up here. It was a happy coincidence that they were turning it into a cemetary anyway….”

Mike sat down in the grass next to his friend. “You haven’t been up here in a while, have you?”

“No. Mom always wants me to come with her and the girls, but I haven’t done it in about a year.” Micky grinned suddenly. “I’m supposed to tell you that you keep me on too tight a schedule.”

“You keep your own schedule now, man, not me.”

Micky fidgeted with a leave that he had picked up. “Yeah, when do you think that’ll change again?”

“What, me being leader? Does it have to change?”

Micky knew he must have looked shocked. “I thought you’d want to go back….”

“You’re doing fine, Mick. Really, you are.” Mike hesitated and looked at the ground. “I know I don’t say stuff like this often, but I’m proud of what you’ve been doing. Keep it up.”

Micky opened his mouth to say something, but Mike obviously wasn’t finished. “You know this letter you gave me?” Micky nodded.

“She says in here that you have something you need to tell me.”

Micky tried to smooth out what he knew must be a horrified expression. “Huh, I’m not sure what you’re talking about….”

“Yeah, she said that in that event, that you promised and that there is nothing worse than breaking a promise to a dead woman.”

Micky felt his mouth drop open in shock. He well remembered that he’d promised to think about telling Mike. Of all the sneaky and conniving things to do….Micky could easily imagine Kendra laughing at him somewhere.

“Alright. Yeah, I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Well?”

Micky suppressed a nervous hysterical laugh at the idea of telling Mike his secret next to his father’s grave. “Uh, can it wait? When we’re at the pad? Alone.”

Mike shrugged. “I guess. But you will tell me, right?”

Micky sighed heavily. “Yeah. I’ll tell you.”

The two friends sat in silence for a few more minutes, Micky picking at the grass and wondering if Mike would still feel as proud of him after he said what he had to. But that would be for later that evening.

Micky felt Mike touch him on the knee and he jumped a little. Mike didn’t notice. “We’ll come and visit them together, alright?”

Micky was surprised; Mike wasn’t the type that usually would want company for something like visiting his dead wife. But looking over, he realized the truth written in his friend’s eyes; Mike was scared to come here alone.

“Yeah. Of course…..”

Mike turned towards Micky, tears welling up in his eyes again. “Mick, can we go home now? I want to go home.” His voice was heavy.

Micky wanted to reach out and hug Mike, or even lean over and kiss him, but he knew taking advantage of his friend right now would be wrong. “Mike, I….” Micky hesitated. “Yeah, we can go home.”

The two stood up together, and Mike surprised Micky by wrapping him in a hug. “Thank you, Mick.”

Micky awkwardly patted Mike on the back. “Uh, you’re welcome….”

Eventually, Mike let go and together they walked back to the car, Peter and Davy following closely behind.


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter 10

It was midafternoon when the four Monkees got back to their pad, and Mike went straight out to the beach, sitting on one of the dunes.

“Guys, I’m worried about ‘im,” Davy said, watching the lone figure out the window.

Micky nodded. “We all are. Maybe he just needs some time alone….” He sat down at the table with Peter. “Some time to cope. It’s a lot to take in a short amount of time.”

Peter nodded distractedly, staring at the table. “And what’s with you, Big Peter?”

“Huh? Oh, I was just thinking…..” He never did say what he was thinking about.

****

Mike was watching the ocean. The waves came in and went out, in and out in a constant and vigilant cycle. It made him think about Buddhists and their ideas about Reincarnation. Maybe Kendra would come back to him one day and he wouldn’t feel like he was missing something anymore. He pulled the crumpled letter out one more time, reading the words in the light of the sinking sun. Then the inevitable happened; Mike heard one of his friends come down the balcony stairs and sat beside him. Mike sighed and looked over; it was Peter.

“Hi, Michael.”

“Hey.”

“Micky went out and is getting supper. Is Chinese alright with you?”

Mike shrugged. “I’m not hungry right now. I guess Chinese’ll be fine.”

The two sat in silence for a while, Peter drawing pictures in the sand with his fingers and Mike watching.

“You know, Kendra did a lot of sketching….”

“Yeah, I know. That’s kinda why I came out here….” Peter reached into the pocket of the suit jacket he was still wearing and pulled out a worn-looking book. “This was mixed into one of the boxes of books she left me and Davy. I found it and thought you’d want it.”

Mike took the book and opened it. “Wow. Thanks, Pete. I really can’t say how much this means….” Mike shook his head as he realized more tears were filling up his eyes. “Damn, not again….”

Peter patted his friend’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright, Michael. Maybe not soon, maybe not in a few years, but you’ll be alright. I know you’ll make it through this.”

Mike sniffed and wiped under his eyes. “You seem to know all the right things to say nowadays, Pete. When did that happen?”

Peter laughed and Mike managed a vague smile. “You’ve always told us the right things when we’re down. Maybe it’s rubbed off.”

Mike nodded. “Maybe. That’ll be good to know after…..” Mike suddenly looked guilty, as if he had accidentally said too much.

“After what?”

“Never mind. I think I hear the car. Why don’t you go in and get something to eat?”

Peter frowned and looked like he was about to disagree for a second, but stood up anyway. “Alright Michael.”

****

Several minutes passed before Mike heard one of his friends behind him again. Turning in the sand, he saw it was Micky, holding two cartons of take-out Chinese food and some chopsticks.

“Hey Mike. Thought you might be hungry.” Micky sat down and handed him one of the cartons.

“Thanks.”

They sat for a while eating, Mike somewhat surprised that he was actually enjoying the food. “Thanks a lot for this, Mick.”

“For what?”

“The food, the company….”

“Oh…You’re welcome.”

“Will you tell me now?”

Micky opened his mouth and almost asked ‘tell you what’, but he changed his mind.

“Alright. But you have to understand, this is really hard for me to say, and….I don’t want you to be mad at me when I’m done.”

Mike frowned. “Why would I be mad? Is it that bad?”

“It’s not bad. Well, I suppose from a certain way of thinking…..I don’t think it’s bad. Upsetting, sure, but….”

“Mick, you’re babbling.”

“Right, sorry. I, uh, well, the thing is…..You see, I kinda….” Micky made some vague waving motion in the air.

Mike reached over and put his hand on Micky’s arm, making him jump. “Micky, calm down, babe. You aren’t making any sense.”

Micky sighed heavily. “Sorry. Okay, calm.” Deep breath. “Mike, I….I like you.”

Silence. Horrible, deafening silence. Micky would later swear that the waves had even stopped for a heartbeat. “I….I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t make me say it again! It was hard enough the first time.”

Mike stared at the sand at his feet. “Mick, I don’t really know what to say….”

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t expect you to. I won’t ask you to do anything, either. I mean, I’ll understand if you want to kick me out of the room, but….”

“Kick you out of the room?”

“Yeah, the bedroom.”

“Why would I do that? I trust you.”

“Thanks Mike.” Micky paused, thinking. “You know, I thought you’d take this a little differently. I had this picture in my head of you yelling or hitting something.”

“I really don’t know how to take this. There’s so much been going on….I don’t know…..”

Micky nodded and there was silence again for a minute.

“Micky, how long has this been going on for?”

Micky squirmed uncomfortably. “A couple of months.”

“So just before I met Kendra. Is that why you were acting so strange?”

Micky sighed. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but yes. I was angry and jealous.”

Mike nodded. “I guess I can understand that. Do Peter and Davy know?”

“Yeah, they do. Peter guessed.”

Mike nodded some more. “Listen, Mick….There’s too much….Uh, I can’t say that….I’ll think about it, but….”

Micky cut him off. “That’s all I’ll ask, is for you to think about it.”

“But, I don’t want to….” Mike stalled. “I don’t want to hurt you any more.”

Micky felt his mouth drop open. “Wow, Mike, I….I don’t think you can. Well, I mean, I don’t think you will. I trust you, too.”

Mike nodded sadly, as if he knew better but didn’t want to tell Micky any differently. After a while, he spoke again. “Let’s go back inside, Mick. It’s getting late.”

****

The Pad stayed quiet for the rest of the evening. Peter sat at the table reading one of Kendra’s books. Davy was busy writing letters to his family in England, updating them on what was going on. Micky sat on the couch and occasionally shot nervous glances upstairs where Mike had disappeared into the bedroom.

After Davy had written his letters, he silently slipped upstairs, unnoticed by the others. He knocked on the bedroom door, and not hearing an answer, opened it and walked in.

Mike was lying stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he glanced up when Davy came in. He walked over and sat on the foot of the bed. Mike had known Davy for years now, and never had he seen him so sad.

“Mike, I imagine that Kendra left a note for you about me in that letter she wrote. There is something important I need to tell you, but I need you to promise you won’t tell. Not a soul.”

Mike sat up in the bed so he and Davy were facing each other. “I promise. It won’t leave this room.”

Davy nodded and sighed. “Alright. Well, it all begins back home in England. When I was growing up, there was a girl who lived down the street. ‘er name was Millie. She was at least a foot taller than me and could beat me in a fight with one ‘and tied behind ‘er back. Trust me, we tried it once.”

“One summer, when we were fourteen, she goes away with ‘er family for a month and when she comes back she’s gorgeous. And that was it for me, it took me three years, but I finally talked ‘er into goin’ out with me.”

“We went out for another year or so and when we were finished with school we sat down and ‘ad a long talk. We decided we’d get married and move to London. I’d audition for plays and she’d waitress until she could sell one of ‘er dresses she’d designed to a fashion magazine.”

“Well, when we went to talk to ‘er father, he was furious. He yelled and threw things.” Davy brushed the bangs away from his temple. “This scar ‘ere. Shrapnel wound from a li’tle china cat. So we ran away, and got married in London.”

Davy sighed and rubbed his eyes. “A few months went by. I was nervous, I had gotten an audition for a great part in a play on the West End. I kept Millie late that morning rehearsing my lines and then she ran out the door to go to work.”

Davy shook his head. “She always walked through the park to get to the restaurant. It had rained that morning, as usual, and she was walking under the trees when one of them fell.” Davy chuckled humorlessly. “Ironically, it was scheduled to be cut down that afternoon. The doctors told me she felt no pain at all. After she was buried at home in Manchester, I moved over here to the states. I needed a complete change, so I came where the sun was, California.”

Davy sighed heavily again. “I told you all of that, Mike, so you’d know you weren’t alone. I know how difficult this is for you, truly. Whenever you feel like talking, I’m here.”

Mike closed his mouth finally; his jaw had dropped during Davy’s tale. “Thanks, Dave. So all the business the first few months you were here?”

“Nope, not homesickness.”

“But, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was trying to escape, Mike. I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Mike nodded. He understood. “But, all the girls you date?”

Davy smiled. “I keep believing that one day I’ll find someone; someone who has the same eyes, or that reads the same books, someone that’ll be close enough to Millie. I was able to spend such a short amount of time with her, I don’t think God would have taken her away so soon if I wasn’t meant to find her again.”

Mike looked down at the bed, thinking about what Davy had told him. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense….”

“Well, I know it’s really too soon for you to want to talk about it, but you know now, and I’ll be around for you.”

“Thanks, Davy, I really….” Mike trailed off, remembering something, a conversation from a while back. “Oh my God. That night me and Kendra got married. You were trying to give me advise and I just totally….”

“It’s alright, Mike,” Davy said, climbing off the bed. “I told you, I understand.”

And with that, Davy left the room.

****

At some point, Mike knew he had drifted off to sleep because when he opened his eyes the room was dark. Micky had drawn the blankets over his body and had fallen asleep across the room, where he was snoring lightly. Mike smiled at the sound. How he would miss him….

Mike silently slipped out of bed and begun packing the things he would need for his trip. He tiptoed downstairs and pulled out several sheets of paper, meaning to leave letters for each of his friends, knowing they deserved an explanation. He was going to miss them all….


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11

The next morning, Micky woke up and he could tell something was different. He wasn’t sure what it was or how he knew, but he could just tell; something was different. Micky blearily sat up in bed and stretched his arms, looking around the room at the same time. Mike’s bed was made already, that was the only thing Micky could tell. Shrugging, he got out of bed and went downstairs.

At the table, Peter and Davy sat looking solemn. “Great, he’s up, we can start now,” Davy said.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“Michael’s gone and he left us these letters. Davy wanted to read them now, but I thought we should wait on you.”

Micky took the four envelopes from Peter, feeling numb. He was really gone?

He opened the one that said ‘OPEN FIRST’ on it and began to read out loud:

“Guys,

You really can’t know how hard this is. I’ve given it a lot of thought over the past few days and I decided I needed to go away. I’m going to my family in Texas for a while, but I’m not sure for how long. The one thing I do know is that I am coming back. That’s a promise.

I miss you guys already and I’m not even out the door yet, so I imagine I won’t be gone for long. Micky, while I’m out you’re still in charge. I wouldn’t have left at all if I wasn’t positive you could handle it. Peter, if you’ll notice, I left my guitar on the bandstand. It’s yours for a while until I get back. I know it’s a little different from yours, but if you practice with it I know you’ll get a great sound. Davy, keep on practicing on the bass. You’re doing a great job. If you look in the top left-hand drawer in my bedroom, there’s a stack of new songs y’all haven’t practiced yet. Keep you guys busy.

I left other letters for the each of you, explaining more about what I did. I hope you aren’t too mad. I’ll call when I get to the house.

Missing You,

Michael.”

****

Micky,

I know that the first thing that’s probably going to go through your mind is that I left because of what you told me. That isn’t right. For whatever reason, what you said didn’t freak me out. I thought it would, but it didn’t. Really, I’m kinda flattered.

But I can’t think about it right now. I hate to tell you this, but I miss Kendra so much I’m surprised I’m not bleeding from how bad it hurts. I also know that one day, that pain will start to get better. I’ll be able to move on. Maybe not soon, but one day. My only hope is that when that day comes, you’ll still be there.

I know it’s too much to ask, to give up a social life on account of me not being able to move on. I’ll understand if you don’t want to. My only hope is that no matter what you or I choose, we’ll still stay friends. I care about you too much to let you go like that.

Love,

Mike

****

Peter,

Of all the people I know, you’re probably the most likely to do something stupid like plan a rescue trip after me and drag me back home. I’d like to ask you not to do that this time. All I will ask you to do is keep an eye on Davy and Micky….especially Micky. Keep them safe for me.

I also wanted to apologize to you….You’ve never been a dummy and I’m sorry if I’ve ever treated you like one. You don’t deserve that.

You’ve grown up a lot in the past couple of months and I wanted you to know how much I respect you….I know the others are in good hands now with you looking out for them. Thank you so much,

Michael

****

Davy,

I know that you, more than the others, will understand why I’ve done this. The Pad is just to full of memories right now. At least in Texas, I won’t be plagued as badly with what I am sure is Kendra’s ghost.

I wanted to let you know, too, that anytime I need to talk with someone about this, you’ll be the first one I’ll call. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you told me. I was feeling like I was all alone, that none of you guys could possibly understand….Thank you.

I’ll talk to you later,

Mike

****

After everyone had read their letters privately, they all gathered silently in the living room, almost as if they didn’t know what to do with themselves without Mike. Peter eventually got up and picked up the twelve-string, practicing some chords. Micky pulled out the stack of songs that Mike had written, reading over the lyrics. Davy sat next to Peter and tried to follow along on bass.

Life went on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...That's it. The end of Missing You. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Many years ago, I had plans for a sequel, but I never could write it.


End file.
